


Roguery of Amnesia

by Centelope



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-14 22:29:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10545404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Centelope/pseuds/Centelope
Summary: Spock gets transported back from a mission and a malfunction gives him amnesia. It slowly gets worse, eventually he can't remember where he is, who the crew are, who he is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Spock gets transported back from a mission and a malfunction gives him amnesia. It slowly gets worse, eventually he can't remember where he is, who the crew are, who he is.
> 
> This is going to be a multi-chapter fic.

 

“Scotty! Beam us up!” Captain Kirk was yelling in the communicator, voice probably muffled from the harsh wind.

“Ach, I’m trying sir! Th' transporter is down! Ye gonna have tae’ find shelter for a bit longer!”

“Our chances for survival in our current situation is approximately three point—“

“Shut up you pessimistic hob-goblin,” McCoy bit at Spock, “You heard the man, just gotta wait a couple more minutes.” He turned away and began muttering to himself. “Just typical for the damn transporters to stop working when we’re caught in the middle of a hurricane”

At that moment, a large crunch and the feeling of an earthquake suddenly hit the floor. Kirk spun around to find Spock striding away just in time from a tree that had fallen over behind them.

“Scotty!” Kirk cried into the communicator again.

“Jus’ a minute sir!”

As if some unforeseeable creature had heard their pleas, the familiar tingle of yellow light wrapped around then, taking the landing party away from the danger zone and into the comfort of the ship. Comforting for two out of the three men, that is.

\--

“Almost lost ye’ there.” Scotty sighed with relief as he saw the crew land. “Readings were fluctuating as ye’ transported down.”

“Yeah? Well I’m not going in that thing again ‘til it’s been tested forty times” McCoy stepped off the pad in frustration, clapping Kirk on the back and then realising the other hand needed to go to Spock’s back; only problem was that he wasn’t there.

He twisted himself around and glanced back to the transporter pad. Spock was still standing there, seemingly hadn’t moved an inch since he got back, his eyes seemed fixated to the ground.

McCoy cautiously approached the Vulcan, stepping onto the transporter pad again. Apparently he hadn’t noticed the doctor nearing him.  
“You alright? Looking kinda peaky.”

Spock’s head sluggishly turned to face McCoy, but eventually answered with a curt nod.   
McCoy wasn’t convinced.

“Did something.. hit you on that planet? Falling tree? Still tripped up from me calling you a pessimistic hob-goblin?”

Spock shook his head, but nevertheless straightened his composure again.

“I believe I am functioning adequately, doctor.” he replied, brushing past the CMO and leaving the baffled-looking Captain staring at him.

“What’s up with him?” Kirk asked, turning his head to look at McCoy.

“Dunno. Looks like he’s going to have his physical 2 weeks early though. Lucky him.” The doctor responded, swiftly striding out the transporter room and after Spock.

…

“Hey!” McCoy called after Spock, who simultaneously picked up his pace after hearing the doctor’s voice. He knew what his next words were. “I want you in sickbay, I’m not done with you yet.”  
Feeling it would be illogically rude to continue walking, he stopped in his tracks and turned to face McCoy.

“Doctor, I do not feel it is necessary to trouble you with an examination, which is what I presume you are beckoning me to sickbay for.”

“I watched you blank out in the transporter room for a full minute with my own two eyes. It’ll only take a minute.”

“It was a temporary readjustment to the harsh environment of our mission, to the calmer atmosphere of the ship.” He responded, craning his neck to the side slightly.

McCoy sighed in exasperation.  
“Fine. But if you feel any worse, come and see me right away, alright?”

Spock gave a curt nod to the doctor, and walked on to the turbolift.

\--

Back on the bridge, Kirk was handing out orders to begin flight to their next mission, as the doors hissed open, revealing Spock marching in.

“Mister Spock.” The Captain acknowledged, turning his chair to face him.

“Captain,” the Vulcan replied.   
He walked half-way across the room, and for a split second, the thought of being lost crossed his mind; for a millisecond, he didn’t recognise the room he was in.

But then shook it off when he realised it was the bridge, and sat down at his assigned area, beginning to get to work.   
His hands gracefully moved over the touchscreen quickly, everything piled in him from muscle memory, everything running smoothly like clockwork. He watched his hands move, hardly having to pay much attention to his thoughts.   
He tuned out for a second, listening into the what the Captain was saying.

“…and that means we’ll probably be stuck up here for a while until Mister Scott is a hundred percent sure that the transporter won’t kill any of us!”

_The transporter does not kill, theoretically._

Abruptly, his hands froze, like a pianist who had yet to learn the next part of their song. He glanced down at the screen, thinking back to scanner instructions, and continued his work, thinking nothing of it. But seconds later, the same thing happened. And again. Then he realised, every-time he tried to let his mind wander, he couldn’t work at the same time.

_Perhaps it will be logical if I were to temporarily terminate my work._

He turned his chair to face the Captain, hesitated for a second, and then requested to leave.

“Captain, may I have your permission to take a temporary leave of absence to the mess hall. I fear that my work is being affected by my requirement of nourishment.”

Kirk was taken aback by Spock’s request. He had never asked to leave while on duty before.

“Sure Spock, take all the time you need!” he replied, taking a mental note to tell McCoy what just happened.

Spock gave a curt nod to his Captain, then seemed to walk more fast-paced than usual to the lift doors.

..

Walking down the corridors to the mess-hall, Spock glanced past the door to the sickbay. Then thought better of it, as McCoy would most likely sit him there for tests for three hours straight.

“Spock?” he heard a voice call after him. A slight tinge of annoyance filled him. He didn’t recognise the voice, and every crew member were to refer to him as _Mister_ Spock. He pushed it away, labelling it as his half-human side trying to get through.

He turned to face the source of annoyance, then mentally wanted to kick himself when he saw it was Kirk.

He had forgotten what _Captain Kirk_ sounded like.

“Captain,” he replied, straightening out his shirt in the presence of Kirk.

“Spock. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

Spock’s eyebrows furrowed in thought.  
“I am afraid I do not understand your meaning, Captain.”

Kirk stepped closer to the Vulcan.  
“You know what I mean, Spock! You faltered in the transporter room, and just now you’ve asked to leave while on duty, and you’ve _never_ done that before. Care to tell me why?”

Spock’s left eyebrow did the impression of an aeroplane.   
“Perhaps it was a mere coincidence, Captain. I have also neglected my need to eat, therefore I am on my way to the mess-hall for sustenance. This is a possibility as to why my performance is not satisfactory.”

Kirk scoffed, then patted the Vulcan on the shoulder, much to his surprise.  
“Your work is always _above_ satisfactory Spock. I see nothing wrong.”

_Perhaps it is logical for me to inform the Captain of my ailment._

“Captain, I have been experiencing issues with my ability to recall instructions. I am seeking measures to improve my performance.”

But Kirk, as usual, simply laughed at the problem and waved it off.

“Ah, you’re always so overdramatic. Come on, Sulu’s got the conn, let’s go eat and talk about how _illogical_ your behaviour is.”

Spock looked almost offended.  
“Captain, my behaviour is not illog-“

“It’s a joke, Spock.” Kirk smiled, then tugged him forwards towards the mess-hall to eat everything his endless pit of stomach would allow.

**_TBC_ **


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock continues to decline.

Kirk approached the food replicator, Spock hovering behind him, stoic-faced as ever.   
Hovering pretty closely in fact. Too closely.

“Spock, you wanna go first or something?” he stepped out of the way to let the Vulcan go first. His eyebrows twitched, but were yet to be infused with nutrition that powered them to shoot upwards.

“After you, Captain.”

Kirk shrugged, quite happy that he would get his food fast regardless of common curtesy, and ordered the healthiest thing he could eat—2 pounds of a beef burger and fries.   
When he turned away, Spock looked disgusted at him.   
Kirk narrowed his eyes before the Vulcan could speak.

“If you tell McCoy about this, I’ll relieve you of duty for three months” he teased, dragging his feet to the nearest table to keep an eye on Spock.

Spock stared at the replicator, wondering how it works.

_Was there an instruction manual created for this machine?_

There was only buttons and screens.

_It appears not._

“Captain,” Spock addressed, turning to face the man sitting on the table behind him.   
Kirk propped his elbow up on the table and rested his chin on his hand.

“Spock?” he asked, with his mouth full of burger.

“I request for your assistance in operating this machine.” Spock scanned around the room to make sure no-one else knew of his weakness to the replicator.   
He seemed to be the only person in the entire room who didn’t know how to use it.

Weird.

 _However, humans do have a desire to constantly eat food, regardless of whether or not they require it._ He reassured himself. That would explain why everyone knew how to use it.

Kirk stepped over and slammed a hand on his shoulder.

“Where’s your card?” he asked, scanning over Spock’s hands but couldn’t find the orange card with his diet information on it anywhere.

“My card, Captain?” Spock asked, confused. He did not realise that a card was required to operate the machine.

“You know, the one you have with all them Vulcan stuffs on it?” he huffed, “Don’t tell me you left it on the bridge..”

“I am afraid I do not understand your meaning, Captain. Vulcan stuffs?”

Kirk stifled back a laugh, folding his arms across his chest. “Come on Spock, what do you usually eat?”

Spock glared at Jim for a couple of seconds. He quite frankly, could not remember what the last meal he had was, let alone what even liked.

Jim sighed. “Plomeek soup, Spock? That’s from Vulcan. You like that.”   
Spock nodded in agreement.

“I will refer to your good judgement, Captain.”

“Good. Well I’ll just.. I’ll do it manually for you, since I presume you don’t even know how to turn the damn thing on, huh?”

“I am afraid not.”

Spock analysed Jim’s face as he spoke, and he could see the lines of tension building in the man’s forehead.  
In fact, just looking at Jim’s forehead seemed to make him realise his own head was beginning to pound.

Kirk shrugged again, finished replicating the meal and gave it to Spock, eying him suspiciously. He then stepped closer, in a surprisingly apprehensive manner.

“Are you feeling okay, Spock?”

Apparently the presence of the meal had refuelled the jet-engine that was Spock’s eyebrow, as it shot through the ceiling at Kirk’s question of his health.

 “I am perfectly fine, Jim.” he replied placing the meal on the table. Jim’s constant worried look made him think twice. “If it is not problematic with you, I would like to continue my meal alone in my quarters.”

Kirk seemed to hesitate, but exasperated, rubbed his face in his hands and nodded. “Yeah go ahead. But be back to the bridge in 20 minutes.”

Spock gave his Captain and curt nod, before picking up the tray and continuing to his quarters.

..

Spock almost dropped his tray on a desk in his quarters. He was not hungry, and he did not want to eat.  
Pressing his mouth into a thin line, he ignored the meal and sat at his desk, fingers interlaced with both hands, staring thoughtfully at the blank monitor screen.

The pounding in his head had substantially increased, giving him an illogical desire to want to rest his head on the desk. The more time passed, the more difficult it was for him to focus.

He couldn’t work, not like this. Spock feared he was becoming unfit for duty.   
The memories of just moments ago began flooding his mind.   
Were they moments ago? Or were they 10 minutes ago? Or maybe hours?  
How long had he been here?  
Was he late for his shift?  
Spock didn’t have time to answer that question, as the black foggy borders of his visions filled up his entire eyesight, then he knew no more.

..

 _“Report!”_ Kirk shouted for what felt like the twelfth time for him. “God damn it, where’s my report?” he spun around in his chair to yell at the lazy officer, when he realised that said officer was missing from his post.

Kirk’s stomach flopped suddenly.  
“Where’s Spock?”

Everyone else in the room simultaneously turned to find the same thing; the Vulcan, who was never ever late, let alone not even turning up at all, was missing from his station.

“I told him to come back in 20 minutes,” Kirk complained standing up from the Captain chair. “It’s been two hours, how the hell have I not noticed he’s missing?”

The rest of the crew remained silent, not wanting to challenge Kirk as he became increasingly worked up. They learnt that the hard way.

“Mister Spock? Come in Spock, you are late for your shift.” Uhura tried to comm his quarters. A few moments of silence and Uhura exhaled. “Spock, are you there?”

Kirk sighed, already making his way to the turbolift before saying “Sulu, you have the conn”

\--

“Spock?” Kirk shouted down the corridors before even getting to his door. He had done a fine job at avoiding the sickbay doors in case Bones decided to drag him in for a physical because he was bored.  
When no-one, not even curious crewmen popped their head out their door, Jim picked up his pace and hurried to Spock’s quarters, getting a bad feeling.

“Spock? Open up, it’s Jim.” he announced, waiting outside the door for an answer.   
Moments passed, and there was no answer.  
“Spock!” he shouted, before finally his patience run thin, entering the override command into the panel and letting himself in.

The second that he stepped into the room, a tall blue figure lunged at him, sending him stumbling backwards out the door again. Kirk, half infuriated and half concerned, stormed back in, to find Spock looking extremely… un-Vulcan like.   
His eyes were glassy, and the clear shine of sweat was present on his face, and if Jim didn’t know any better, he hands looked like they were shaking.

“Spock? You alright?”

The Captain’s question was answered by being pushed out of the Vulcan’s quarters with a grunt, clearly unwelcome there.

If Spock wanted to be left alone, that technique was an absolutely terrible one.

_Kirk was certainly not going to ignore that._

“Spock. Let me in your quarters so I can speak with you. That’s an order.” Jim demanded to the door with his most authoritive tone of voice. The door responded by not opening.

All of a sudden, the door hissed open again, revealing an extremely pale Spock, even for his figure.   
Before Kirk could even get a word in, the Vulcan spat out;

“Please, refrain from yelling. Your volume of speaking is most irritating. It is quite obvious, that this Spock you are speaking of, is not here.” He was leaning on the doorframe for support.

Kirk’s blood run cold.

“Do you… know who I am?”

The Vulcan spared Jim a glance before saying;  
“No.”

And turned away hastily, leaving the door hissing shut in the Captain’s face.

 

**_TBC_ **


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock's health quickly declines, his behaviour and emotional state send him and his friends into trouble.

Infuriated, Jim glared Spock’s quarter door up and down, before finally announcing,  
“I’m coming in Spock, and don’t even think about trying to attack me again,” then he added “If you lay a hand on me I’ll get security down here!”

He then hammered the security override in the controls, and barged into the room the millisecond that the door began hissing.

Looking around, Jim saw instantly that Spock was pinning his back against the wall, his eyes were uncharacteristically full of panic. An expression that Jim had never seen on the man before. Not even the loss of his planet could compare to the look of sheer fear on his face right now.

“Hey,” Jim gentled, approaching the Vulcan like he was a scared stray cat. “What’s wrong? Why are you so angry?”

Spock began to shuffle himself along the wall so his distance between Jim was kept.

“I am not… angry.” His voice was almost at a whisper, backing away from the man like he was a ruthless teenager readying to throw a rock at him.

Jim scoffed a smile at that.  
“Sure you were; you attacked me when I tried to come in the first time, remember?”

Spock was now trapped into the corner of the room and was slowly sliding down the wall.

“I do not remember a wide range of information. Please inform me as to where I am. Are you planning deception?”

Jim decided to allow Spock what he wanted, and didn’t come any closer.

“No, I just came to check on you to see if you were okay. You’ve been acting weird.” Jim bent his knees down so that he was eye-level with Spock.

Something was clearly wrong.

“What is your name?” he asked Jim suspiciously.

“Just call me Jim. I’m the Captain. And you’re on the star-ship Enterprise. Your name is Spock. Please tell me that you haven’t forgotten all of this?”

Spock only drooped his head down to look at his feet, a sight that Jim had never seen. Usually the Vulcan was constantly standing up straight, shoulders buckled into a horizontal line, his face so tight and emotionless, that compared to now, he almost looked completely human.

\--

With his feet beginning to ache, Spock allowed himself to sag to the floor, tucking his hands under his arms and leaning back against the wall. The man in front of him, who called himself Jim, didn’t seem dangerous to Spock.

He watched as Jim slowly began approaching him, knees slightly bent as if trying to appeal to an animal. Spock decided not to move, having felt that Jim was a safe man, and the panicked feeling in his presence was not needed.

“Do you want me to get Bones?” the Captain asked him quietly, at such a level it almost seemed affectionate.

“I do not understand your meaning. Bones?”

Jim nodded quickly, Spock cautiously watching as he reached his hand into his pocket.

“Yeah, he’s the chief medical officer here. He’s a doctor.”

Spock craned his head at that. Perhaps his inability to recall memories requires immediate medical attention. But then again, the people who he was on board with, might not have good intentions with him.

“I do not wish for medical attention. Please do not allow another person into this room.”

Jim sighed, but nodded and put the device away.   
He wanted to start gaining Spock’s trust if he were to help him.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Jim asked, reaching out to touch Spock’s arm to comfort him. “We’ve only talked about that stuff that you can’t—oof! Spo-“

Spock grabbed the Captain by the throat and hurled him across the room in complete fear, staring at his arms, where the touch of the man in front of him, the man who betrayed him, had sent a massive surge of sudden grief into his mind.

_Everyone on board this ship were going to deceive him._

“Spock, what the hell—“

“ _NuuuAARRGH_!” Spock roared out in rage, punching Kirk in the shoulder, leaving the man clutching his new injury. The second that the captive had looked up to face him, Spock took the chance to wallop him in the back with a huge ** _thump_** , which to Spock’s relief, made the man wail out in pain and collapse to his knees, begging him to stop.

But he didn’t stop. He must show his captive that he was not to be messed with.

“ _WHAT_.” Whack. “ _DID_.” Whack. “ _YOU_.” Whack. “ _DO_.” Whack. “ _TO ME?!”_

Spock was petrified.

“Spo— _gag_ —please, stop, what the hell are you doing?” the man coughed up some blood, and Spock felt glad when he had stared at it in pure horror. “God, what’ve you done to me?” he choked, struggling to stand on his feet.

This captive was persistent.   
Spock glared down with a raised eyebrow at the heap of Kirk on the floor. He menacingly strode towards him.

“I think the question is more accurately, what have you done to _me_ ” he grabbed the Captain by the throat again and tossed him with unthinkable body strength against the wall, his head hitting the concrete-metal with a loud _crack,_ before hitting the comm button and collapsing instantly.

Spock froze to the spot and inhaled sharply. Looking at his hands, his legs began to shake, at his sudden outburst that might have killed this man that had only touched him unintentionally.

_He didn’t know his own strength._

“Spock?” a noise from the wall crept over Spock’s thoughts. He was pulled back to the present with a tiny gasp.

“Spock this is McCoy, what’s wrong?” Spock tried to shift his memory around to remember who the hell this ‘McCoy’ was. Didn’t the Captain mention there being a doctor?

“Damn it man, I haven’t got time to be playing charades, answer me!” Spock didn’t want anyone to know he was here, let alone what he had just done. He backed away from the questioning comm, turning to run away from himself.

\--

The door hissed open, the CMO storming into the room.

“Spo—oh, fuck” McCoy’s eye caught Jim in a heap on the floor, and could tell he was definitely was not conscious just by looking at him. There was blood seeping out of every visible hole in his body – his nose, his mouth, his ears, hell even his eyes had smudges of red on them.

“Damn it,” he hissed, getting down onto his knees and swiftly opening his medkit, carefully rolling Jim onto his back.  
“Jim? Can you hear me, man?” he took the Captain’s arm and firmly rubbed up and down his skin, receiving a pained moan in response.

“B’nes..” came the reply that showed the CMO that he was recognised.

“I’ve got you kid, it’s okay.” He picked up the medical scanner from the medkit and began hovering it over him. “What happened here? Who did this to you?” then it hit him, “Hold on, this is Spock’s quarters, is he alright?”

Kirk grunted and tried to form a response. “S’mething mm’wrong with Ssss---Spock”

“God damn it..” he muttered after looking at the horrendous readings from the medical scanner. “He’s hurt too? Where is he?” the doctor referred to Spock, flipping out his communicator and calling for backup.

“D-dunno.. he.. he did this.. t’me” Jim slurred, practicing opening his eyes against the harsh light.

“Wait a minute kid, _Spock_ did this to you?”

Jim let out a strained “mm-hmm” and spluttered out another cough.   
McCoy rolled him onto his side as the Captain emptied his throat of bile.

“I’m gonna get that green-blooded son of a bitch--I’m gonna make sure he never sets foot on this damn ship again.” McCoy grumbled, gently manoeuvring Jim onto his back again.

“Don’t..blame him, Bones.. there’s.. there’s something.. wrong.. with..with…w---..”

“Damn it, stay with me Jim,” he tipped Jim’s head back and manipulated his mouth open, groaning at the amount of blood pooling at the back of his throat.

Just then, the doors slid open, to McCoy’s relief, revealing Chapel and two other nurses pushing their way in.

“Take Jim to sickbay, I think he needs to be intubated, his lungs are filling with fluid. He’s got a severe concussion, I can tell that much” McCoy ordered, slamming the medkit shut and standing up, looking around vigilantly.   
The nurses all nodded, carrying the Captain onto the hoverbed and taking off down the corridors, the door hissing shut again, leaving McCoy in the room alone.

Or was he.

“I know you’re in here Spock, my tricorder registers another lifeform, and I sure as hell ain’t pregnant.”

After there was no reply, McCoy gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.

“ _Get out here now, you vicious son of a bitch!”  
_ He stormed over to the only enclosed space that could hold an object that was Spock’s size—the closet, hauling it open, stepping back as he took in what he saw.

\--

Spock was huddled up against the closet wall, shaking so violently it looked as if he was having a seizure. His eyes were glazed over, the sweat on his forehead was so obvious that anymore would emit a reflection of the doctor’s troubled face.

Slowly, he watched as McCoy knelt down in front of him, the same way that Jim did.

“Spock,” he heard him say, reaching out to grab his arm, but halted instantly when the Vulcan let out a low grumble. He looked down at Spock’s hands, his knuckles were rough and peeling, his nails were red and caked with blood.  
Looking up to face him, the doctor noticed that the Vulcan was taking dangerously short and quick breaths. Those breaths only got faster as he attempted to speak, staring desperately at McCoy as if he was about to explode.

“I do not… understand,” he breathed out, his eyes displayed usually-hidden profound fright.  
The other man, surprisingly, had concern etched across his face, while glaring down at his scanner.

“This isn’t good,” the man whispered to himself, glancing up at Spock anxiously. “Spock, when did this behaviour start?”

The Vulcan shook his head.   
“I do not remember. I do not know why I did it. I did not recognise my own strength. He touched me, and I was afraid, as if it was an instinct to protect myself.” Spock grabbed hold of McCoy’s sleeve, tugging at it at a force that he undoubtedly didn’t comprehend.   
McCoy bit his lip as the Vulcan’s heart-rate skyrocketed out of control.  
“Try to relax Spock, you’re going to be _okay_. Your heart is very—“

“I do not know where I am, I do not know why I am here. I do not know who anyone is.”   
He suddenly gasped for breath, leaving McCoy stunned at the performance that was played out in front of him.   
“I am afraid; please help me.” were Spock’s last words before his body got the better of him; he launched forward and expelled the contents of his stomach over the doctor’s uniform.   
Looking up and expecting there to be disgust written onto the man’s face, Spock was staggered when there was nothing but determination and deep thought there instead.

“Do you know who I am?” was asked instead. Spock shook his head, swallowing hard to keep the next wave of nausea at bay.

“Alright.” McCoy glimpsed down at his tricorder readings, ‘Retrograde Amnesia’ coming up in bold letters, after having input the Vulcan’s symptoms.

“McCoy.” he put simply, slipping his tricorder back into its case, and pulling Spock to his feet. “I’m a doctor. And you need to come with me.”

Spock solemnly nodded, fists tightening again at the memory of what he had done, while also being glad that McCoy had him by his shirt, and not by his hands; that was usually when the panic came in.

\--

On the way down the corridors, McCoy was questioning Spock constantly. There was a familiar sense of annoyance to the situation.

“Are you having any other symptoms? Headache, nausea, breathlessness, fatigue, chest pains—any pain at all?”

Spock shook his head. “No, doctor. I am only aware of the loss of memory, and the nausea that accompanies it.” he came to a halt at the door, and was being gestured in by the doctor.

“After you,” he says.

The room he was led into was most certainly of medical origin. The stench of sterile material made the Vulcan squint, leaving a burning feeling in his eyes. He wished the smell wasn’t so strong. Everything was prestige white, including the walls and floor, even the ceiling.  
He was led towards a white bed, which had various machinery near it.

“Take a seat,” McCoy walked off to the front of the bed, tapping on numerous screens and muttering curses to himself as it began picking up Spock’s vital signs.

Preparing to check his heart-rate the old fashioned way, McCoy pushed two fingers against Spock’s neck, but he instantly reacted once again in pure terror. He flung himself off the side of the bed, stumbling across the floor, snatching the side of the bed’s rails just in time before he slipped over.

There wasn’t an angry retort from the doctor, in fact there was only a furrowed-eyebrow stare in confusion. Spock looked away from him and glanced around the room for other people. His eyes caught sight of Jim, who was lying on the biobed with four nurses around him. Countless lights and numbers on monitors were flashing red, and the man didn’t seem to be moving.

Spock took one last shuddering cry of distress and collapsed, passing out under Doctor McCoy’s feet.

 

**_To Be Continued..._ **


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock manages to get to sickbay, but lives up to being called the worst patient on the entire ship.

McCoy thanked the nurses that assisted him in putting Spock onto a biobed. Even asleep, his blood pressure was shooting through the roof. Who knows what mess was trudging through the troubled Vulcan’s mind.

"Where's Bones?"

McCoy did a 180 spin and strode up to Kirk, who looked half asleep and leaning out of his bed.

"I'm here. How're you feeling?"

The Captain's pupils peeped through his eyelids, then slammed them shut again.

"God _\-- damn it_!" he shouted at the lights, "Wait, Spock, is he-"

"He's as fine as he _can_ be in his state." McCoy intervened, taking a seat next to his friend. "Jim, what in the hell happened back there? You were bleedin' all over his floor!" McCoy glanced back at Spock.

"He beat the shit outta me 'cos I touched his arm"

McCoy considered all the possibilities known to medical mankind.

"Did he injure his arm? Did you scratch it? Did--"

"He's a touch telepath, Bones... and I think he’s sick.. very sick." Jim twisted himself onto his side, burrowing his head into the pillow.

"The memory problems, I know. I'm thinking retrograde amnesia." he paused and looked down at his PADD. "Tell me how it started?"

Jim shrugged and shrivelled under the blankets.

"Well uh-- **_oh god_** \--" Jim clutched his chest with forceful fingers and groaned. "Bones..!"

McCoy forced the bed down straight and scanned his body.

"Take your hand away Jim," he pried his fingers away from the skin.

"Well he uh.. he-- _god!_ " Jim squeezed his eyes shut at the pain pumping around his body.

"Stop tryin' to talk, you can tell me in a minute"  McCoy squinted at the PADD.

Two fractured ribs. Nice.

"How's your breathing Jim?" he asked, although being able to see full well his respiration stats were dropping. He frowned.

"Fractured rib's screwed up your lung. Don't talk." he said for him instead.

To make things worse, there were groans coming from Spock's bed.

"Damn it, pointy eared bastard woke up," he turned to Chapel who was reorganising medical supplies.

"Nurse, run a regen' on his ribs and his left lung" he ordered, moving over to Spock, who looked like he'd just seen a ghost.

He quickly spun back around and drew the curtains to Kirk's bed in case Spock panicked again.

…

Spock gazed around the room sluggishly. It felt like his body was four times slower than his mind.

A familiar figure appeared in front of him, holding a device.

"Hey," the man greeted, taking out what he recognised as a hypospray.

"No." he felt his heart racing again already.

"Oh you remember this then?" the doctor spun the hypo around between his fingers. "That's unfortunate, thought I'd be able to get you with it." he watched McCoy like a hawk, refusing to say anything else.

"If you remember that, then you know why I need to take some blood. Roll up your sleeve"

Spock felt the urge to up-and-run, but somehow didn't feel it was...right. At the same time, looking at that hypo and the thought of being touched made him sick to his stomach.

"Nuh uh, no moving. Come on, it won't hurt," the doctor prompted him.

He couldn't let the doctor touch him. He didn't want to feel that fear again. It made him lose control.

"No," he repeated, sitting up and shuffling away from him. "I do not consent to this"

McCoy, as usual, simply ignored him.

"I said _no_ ," Spock breathed, swiping away the threatening arm. "Please, do not do this to me."

At that, McCoy sighed in both sympathy and frustration, then placed the hypo back in its tray.

"Spock, at some point you're gonna have to have a physical, why you so scared?"

Spock hesitated before admitting "When I am touched by another being, I feel overwhelmed with emotion. I lose control. I do not wish to repeat the incident with Jim."

Something suddenly clicked for McCoy, like the last puzzle piece being slot into place.

McCoy folded his arms across his chest.

"You're a touch empath, Spock. Usually you're able to control the emotional aspects of that though."

Spock looked generally surprised at this information.

"I most certainly have not been able to control my emotional reactions. However, I feel that control would benefit me greatly."

McCoy answered him with a slight mindless nod, pulling out a pair of white latex gloves from a box and turning to Spock.

"I'm gonna try something. Sit pretty for a sec"

Spock's eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"Sit pretty, doctor?"

McCoy snapped the gloves on and sighed.

"Well 'least you haven't lost your sense of logic" he paused. "If that's… even a thing. Lie still,"

Spock anxiously watched McCoy approach him.

"Doctor, I repeat that I do not consent to this" he said quickly, shuffling back.

"Yeah? And here's something for you to learn-- I'm the CMO of this trashcan you call a star-ship so I can do whatever the hell I like"

Spock shook his head in alarm and backed away until his head hit the end of the bed.

"Doctor please--" an alarm startled Spock, whipping his head around to the source of noise then back to McCoy.

"Spock, I don't think this is gonna hurt you, calm down," McCoy stepped away for a moment, fearing his advancing was what made the Vulcan's blood pressure shoot up.

"I do not wish to be here," he breathed, scrambling to get out of bed and then ungracefully fell over himself, he found himself to be trembling.

"Doctor?" Chapel's head appeared through the curtains, apparently hearing the commotion.

"Nurse, give him a sedative, but only one shot, I want him awake" McCoy ordered, spinning round to look at the wildly-out-of-control vitals.

Spock unwillingly let out a upset whimper and ran away from the stranger.

"Hey! Get back in here you pointy eared bastard!" McCoy pushed past a dazed Chapel and after Spock.

Spock's knees turned to jelly. He collapsed against the wall and hit his head with a _bang_.

"Bones? What the hell are you doing?"

Kirk was running over to Spock, putting a hand on his back; Spock flinched but relaxed when nothing happened.

"Jim! Get back into bed!" McCoy shoved him aside, Spock jumped up and followed Jim.

"Well, great job Bones, Spock's scared of you"

Bones shook his head, muttering what were likely curses, marching towards them.

Spock hurriedly hid himself behind Jim's back. Kirk felt rush of adrenaline to protect the Vulcan.

"Don't come any closer, Doctor McCoy." Kirk's voice fell low and dark. McCoy raised his eyebrows.

"Jim, I've gotta do these tests on him, he's very sick."

Kirk simply continued to glare at him. McCoy slid off his gloves.

"Listen, Jim, if I don't do this then--"

" _Then nothing will happen!"_ Kirk interrupted him furiously. "He's terrified, Bones! He's a Vulcan and all his defences are down!"

McCoy stood in thought, and let out a sigh of resignation.

"Alright, I'll leave the physical to another day, but at least let me take some blood man!"

Kirk narrowed his eyes took a big stride so that their noses were almost touching.

"If you touch him again, I'll relieve you of duty and confine you to your quarters until further notice, and _that's_ a command you can't override."

McCoy wasn’t sure if the anger he felt was because of his ego being ripped apart or because he wanted to heal Spock as soon as possible. Perhaps a bit of both.

“Don’t test me Jim. If you refuse to let your first officer get the medical attention he needs, then you _know_ that I can do something about that too. Do something to the both of you.”

Kirk was about to bite back with another enraged phrase, but thought the better of it after thinking through what the doctor said.

_Doing absolutely nothing for Spock wasn’t going to magically cure him._

\--

Spock listened to the exchange between the two men.  
From what he could gather, the one named Kirk was trying to protect him, while the other named McCoy wanted to treat him. Being protected from treatment didn’t make sense.  
The expression “It is not logical” passed through his memory.  
Therefore why was he so afraid?

Then, he was pulled out of his thoughts when Kirk turned back around to face him.

“Spock..” he sighed. “McCoy is right. We can’t do anything for you if we don’t have anything to work with. Just let him take some blood and that’s it.”

McCoy appeared in front of Jim.  
“Does the word ‘logical’ ring any bells for you, Spock?”

He craned his head at the word.  
“It does.” Spock glanced up at McCoy. “Doctor, why are you so sure that what you will do, will not harm me, compared to the other times that I were touched?”

McCoy’s head rolled back to the ceiling, clearly holding in a sigh of exasperation.  
“As I told you before, you’re a touch telepath. Skin-to-skin contact triggers that. And I’m guessing whatever’s happened to you has sent all your defences down, which is why you feel so..” he gestured his hands around animatedly, “..afraid. But I can’t know for sure because guess who isn’t letting me help him?” McCoy explained, gently pulling Spock forward as if to say “just get back on the damn bed already.”

This time, Spock decided to comply, giving a subtle nod to the Captain and getting back onto the biobed. The doctor readied the hypo again, eying Spock to make sure he didn’t make another run for it.  
At the corner of his eye, he could see Kirk watching.

“Jim, get back to bed. I don’t want you walking around with a lung and concussion like yours” he snapped, turning back around to approach Spock.  
Jim groaned, but continued hanging around Spock.

“Jim! For god sakes don’t make me have to patch you up again because I won’t!” angrily, the doctor tightened his grip around the hypo and clutched Spock’s arm to keep him steady, only to have a tight grip on his own arm in return, followed by being effortlessly thrown into the tray of instruments next to him, which then shattered all over the floor next to him.

“ _Jesus Christ_!” he shouted, staring up stunned at the Vulcan, then sliding his eyes up to look at the monitors. “Nurse!”

_**To Be Continued..** _


	5. Chapter 5

Spock crunched his eyes shut and collapsed to his knees with an oomph. Chapel came through the curtains at the same time.

"Doctor, I cannot... control it, it... I..."

McCoy's mouth formed a thin straight line. It was just one thing after another.

“ _God damn Vulcan physiology_ ” he muttered under his breath. "Try to breathe through it Spock, you're gonna be okay" he reassured him, carefully picking himself up around all the loose hypos scattered on the floor.

"I.. cannot.." Spock stuttered, keeling over to the side. Chapel lurched forward to grab him but hesitated.

"What's happening to him?" Kirk finally asked, seemingly the only person still standing, apart from Chapel.

McCoy glanced down at the only reason this could have happened again-- then muttered a string of curses under his breath.

"Grabbed his arm, forgot to put the gloves back on." he realised, rubbing his hands together and reaching for the gloves.

Spock was in a fetal position on the floor, very clearly shaking and out of breath.

McCoy knelt down and bent over him, putting an arm onto Spock's back and another on his head. Spock instantly tensed up, but slowly sagged when no new feelings pounded him.

Luckily his hypothesis worked, having the new fabric in the way of touching skin stopped any touch telepathy.

" _Okay_ , now nurse Chapel here is going to give you a medication to calm you down. Try not to move.” he gave a nod to the nurse, who knelt down and pressed the hypo against Spock's neck, being careful not to touch him.

After a couple of seconds, the shaking stopped. McCoy thought he was asleep before he heard a slurred;

"Doctor, I believe... loss of consciousness.. is imminent."

McCoy held himself back from laughing.

"Yeah, that's why it's called a sedative. Go to sleep you idiot."

Spock became too tired to come up with a retort and immediately became dead-weight in the doctor's grip, who then man-handled him onto the biobed.

After being satisfied that the man wasn’t going to wake up and attempt to murder someone, he sighed and turned to Kirk.

“And back to bed with you. You shouldn’t even be awake, let alone walking n’ talking.”

...

The second that Spock woke up, he instincts immediately kicked in to check for people around him. He was lying on a bed, again, with the sound of very fast beeping behind him.   
Letting in a delicate breathe, he opened his eyes and started scanning around without moving his head.

The one who called himself Kirk, or, the Captain was next to him, but the loud rough doctor was no-where to be seen.

Thank god.

“Spock?”

The Vulcan snapped his head to face the voice, obviously it was Kirk considering he was the only person in the room, but somehow he had to think it through anyway.

“Captain,” he greeted, letting his eyes glance around the room some-what more invasively.

“Who you searching for?”

Spock met Kirk’s gaze and looked away again.

“The doctor. He is not here.” The Vulcan clarified.

Kirk stood up instantly.

“Want him to get him? Hold on—“

“No, I do not wish to see him,” Spock added quickly, albeit in desperation.

Jim rolled his chair closer, pulling Spock's bed up to a sitting angle.

"Better?" he asked the perplexed man.

"Captain, I do not believe I had a problem with lying down,"

Kirk grabbed the handrails again.

"Oh, sorry, let me just--"

"But I do not object to the new angle at which I am positioned at" Spock added, then leaned his head back to look at the beeping monitors.

_Curious._

"Is it possible for the noises on this machine to stop?"

Kirk stood up and smiled, "Bones can," he stated, walking over to the desk. He looked back at Spock but there was no objection on his face.

"Kirk to Doctor McCoy"

Almost instantly a gruff voice answered him.

"McCoy here, Jim. Is Spock alright?"

Typical of the doctor to assume something is wrong the second someone wants him.

_Though that's usually the case._

"He's fine, but he's complaining about the monitors making noises"

"Must be those damned Vulcan ears. On my way"

Kirk ended the transmission and sat back down next to Spock.

"You feeling alright?" he asked quietly. The Vulcan was merely staring thoughtfully at him. For once, he looked at peace. At least he appeared less pale, and more talkative.

"Hmm" was the reply at first. Then, "Captain, how do you propose I discontinue touch telepathy?"

Jim glanced up at the man sympathetically. He wanted to get rid of an ability that he would usually pride himself over.

"You can't, Spock. You've always just..." Jim was stumped to explain, "...controlled it."

Spock sat forward slightly.

"Control over my emotions seems most beneficial." he states, resting back again.

McCoy entered not moments later, of course glaring at the vitals before making eye contact with any other object or living being in the room.

"Looks good." he declared, silencing the monitors with a single push of a button. "For your species anyway" then he turned to Jim.

"Jim, I thought I told you to stay in bed?" he grumbled, but not paying any more attention to him than that. Clearly he had recovered well enough to walk, but McCoy wanted the last word.

"I want to stay with Spock" Kirk admitted, rubbing his neck pensively.

McCoy grunted but returned a slight nod. "Probably a good idea actually. I'm gonna do his physical today." McCoy didn't make eye contact with his patient, knowing he was holding some kind of a glare.

"I'll stay with him just in case" Kirk persisted, hoping it would calm his friend.

\--

"Captain, may I enquire as to why you are so adamant about remaining in the room with me?" Spock suddenly piped up, after the fifth argument over whether Kirk should return to the bridge or not was started.

_It does not seem right to endanger a ship for one person._

Kirk shrugged and completely ignored the question for the fifth time in a row.

"Spock, hope you're feeling well?" McCoy asked, hesitantly reaching for the medical gloves that lay in a box next to Spock.

"I am. But I presume not for long." he muttered under his breath.

"Come on, you can't be as bad as Jim," the doctor joked, lowering the bed backwards so he was flat on his back again.

"Bones! I'm not that bad!" Jim scowled at him from his chair.

"Uh huh. You know what, you’re right Jim!” Bones’ voice dripped with sarcasm. “Guess I'd have to agree with you that running down four corridors, disabling the turbolift and threatening to take a shuttlecraft into uncharted territory because I wanted to give you one routine vaccination wasn't bad at all."

Jim blinked rapidly and clamped his mouth shut, Spock raised a inquisitive eyebrow at that.

"See, no one is worse than Jim," McCoy teased, stepping to the monitors and fiddling with the touch screen controls.

Jim continued glaring at him for a few seconds before asking,

"Whatcha doing?" he stood up and wandered over to the doctor, watching his quick movements swiping over the screen.

"Recalibrating the vitals to better fit Spock's Vulcan biology" he explained, looking extremely focused, "Should more or less work in the same way as humans do. Converts his results into what it would be for a human. Or something." he raised his hands in surrender, "Ask Scotty, he did all the work."

Kirk nodded in understanding, sitting back in the chair after noticing Spock was beginning to act agitated. Jim thinks he preferred it when Spock would try to cover his emotions up to an extent that it was like talking to a brick wall.

McCoy turned to Spock.

“Now, from what you’ve told me before,” a thoughtful eyebrow looked around the room, “…your touch telepathy or empathy—whatever the hell you call it, only works on skin-to-skin contact.” He raised his hands so Spock could see them, “and that’s why I’m wearing these gloves. So it won’t happen again.” McCoy tried explain it clearly to him, but the Vulcan still looked uneasy and gave no reply.   
“ _Do you understand?_ ” McCoy prompted, wanting to make absolutely sure that his patient didn’t feel like he was about to be tortured.

Spock’s mouth opened to say something, and then closed again quickly. McCoy gave him a few more moments to gather his thoughts.

It was odd to see him so unorganized and in mental chaos.

“Doctor,” Spock paused again, but pursed his lips in thought, “I would be most appreciative if you would inform me of everything you are doing to me. It would be beneficial to me if I were to know what was happening, for as of right now, I do feel particularly.. vulnerable, and I believe that understanding what you are doing would provide me with reassurance.” he visibly squirmed a little, slightly curling his knees up as if to protect himself.

“Spock…” McCoy sighed, sandwiched between both frustration and sympathy, “I always tell my patients what I’m doing, as I’m doing it, anyway.”

Spock leaned back.

“Oh.”

“And just for the record, a simple ‘Please tell me what you’re doing as you’re doing it’ would have been sufficient” he shook his head and scoffed, “I didn’t need an entire explanation. Although.. it’s reassuring to know you still aren’t able to shut up”

Spock offered a curt nod, and then turned to Kirk.

“I would be most grateful if you could stay. I do not understand why. I just feel like it would be…” Spock hesitated and tried to think of the reason why.

Kirk patted his shoulder and smirked.   
“Because I comfort you?” he spun his head to Bones. “I’m not surprised, everyone needs to be comforted when McCoy is your doctor.”

McCoy grunted.  
“Shut up Jim, or I’ll move your physical slot up to tomorrow.” he sneered. Then he turned to Spock. “You know, it’s weird to have you saying that you.. feel so much. You never feel” then he rolled his eyes, “Well you don’t admit to it anyway. It’ll be a shame once you’re back to normal.”

“I apologise for my weakness, doctor.” He replied quietly. A slight pang of guilt hit McCoy.

“Well.. what you’re going through right now, I’m not surprised you need so much support.” then he gave a rare reassuring smile to the first officer, “You’ll be alright.”

He gave a quick glance at the monitors, satisfied that they were calibrated the way they should be, then shifted himself next to Spock.

“I’ll start off easy.” McCoy took a mask and gave it to Spock. “Now all you gotta do is breathe into that like normal. That’s all.”

Spock obliged easily and held the mask up against his face, noting that the doctor was trying to make it easy for him at first, as he could hold the mask for himself. He watched as Jim stood up and seemed to be whispering to McCoy.

“What you doing that for? Can’t you see his uh.. respirations on those monitors?”

 “Yeah I can. I’m gonna make him workout later, but I want to get him used to the mask. Thought it’d help.” he hushed back.

Jim nodded, leaning up against the wall, observing Spock’s calm breathing, who was staring off into space. Literally.  
“So you can’t see his respirations while he’s working out? But you could with me?”

McCoy held back an annoyed grumble.  
“I know what I’m doing Jim, trust me.” he looked over to Spock, who seemed to be relatively settled. “Spock?” he waited to get his attention to tell him what he was going to do next. Spock’s head turn to the speaker.

Just as McCoy was about to speak, the room tinted red, and alarms started sounding loudly all over the ship.  
Kirk stood up instantly.

“I’m not even the bridge..”   
Spock jumped out of bed and glanced around the room wondrously.

“What’s that?”


End file.
